Ciri woke the next morning with a headache and mild confusion as to what had happened the night before. She remembered Kain and Avallac'h and Zoltan, but not when or how she had fallen asleep.
Judging by the fact she was still fully clothed and even wearing boots, it had been sudden.
She sat up and stared down at Geralt snoozing on her floor. She didn't remember him coming here, either. Had Yennefer kicked him out of their room? Had he done something insensitive?
"Geralt?" Ciri said, watching him for signs of waking. It was possible he was too tired to come to so early in the morning.
Geralt jerked awake and blinked up at Ciri, rubbing the sand of sleep from his eyes. "What?"
"Why are you sleeping on my floor?"
"Guarding you against bad dreams," he said, rubbing his face. He stretched and put his hands under his head, eyeing her with mild amusement. "You mind my doing so?"
Ciri shook her head, hugging her knees to her chest. "No. It's just... you haven't done that since I was little."
A sad smile touched his mouth. "I missed too much since you were little."
She smiled as well. "Oh, I don't know. You got to be there for the beginning of my transition into womanhood. Skipped right to the end. I think lots of fathers would be grateful to be spared the emotional chaos of youth."
"Most fathers are there to protect their daughters during that trying time, and I wasn't." His jaw tightened. "I wasn't there when I was needed most."
"And if you had purposely abandoned me, I might feel quite upset about that," Ciri said. "But it was not your fault. And you know it."
"What I know and what I feel are disagreeing on that. I don't suppose it ever changes."
"We all have regrets. Even those we could do nothing about."
Ciri swept her legs off the bed and stood, straightening her clothes before freezing.
The anchor had gone missing. It was no longer safely nestled in her bosom.
She threw a look around the floor, then shook the bedding, even going so far as to upturn the mattress.
"Oh, no, no, no..."
"What's wrong?" He sat up with effort and a ghost of lament for such a short sleep.
"The anchor!" Ciri exclaimed, distraught. "I lost it. I can't believe I lost it. I had it just last night. I swear it, Geralt!"
"Don't fret, I have it." He got to his feet and scooped the cover and the pillow from the floor to deposit it on her bed. "It fell out from whatever hiding place you kept it, but didn't leave your bed."
She gave a relieved sigh, scrubbing her hands over her face before holding out her hand to reclaim the anchor.
"I suppose I must be more careful. Let me have it."
"It won't be wise," he declined. "It defeats the purpose of your dimeritium bracelets and leads them to you."
"Let them come then. I don't care." She did not lower her hand. "Give it to me, Geralt. I want it."
Why, she could not even truly explain to herself. Though it was the closest thing she had ever had to a family heirloom. The closest she had ever been to Lara.
Geralt didn't move to oblige. "You will - right after we learn how to rid it of its magic. Not before."
Ciri's eyes narrowed and she closed the distance between them, going for his belt where he kept his coin purse. It was the most logical place for him to keep it if he had it on his person.
Geralt caught her by the wrists, his face inscrutable. "I said later. You'll need to wait."
Ciri yanked her hands away, staring the witcher down with growing fury. "Give it to me. Now. Or I will take it."
"You will not," he said in an even tone. "You will have it later, like I said. Calm yourself, Ciri."
Ciri did not even hesitate. She struck out the moment the witcher had finished saying her name, the heel of her palm catching him in the throat. A move immediately followed by grabbing for the purse again, yanking at its strings to pull it off the belt entirely.
Geralt was being highly unreasonable. Stubborn without cause. And it annoyed her.
His breath hitched, but his instinct didn't falter, and his hands clasped on her wrists again. He squeezed the one holding the purse, and it fell down on the floor where he kicked it under the closet.
His eyes blazed at her, but his voice was the same calm coldness. "Calm yourself."
She tried to pull free again, but found it a lot harder now he was expecting it.
She met his gaze stubbornly, defiantly. "It's mine! My blood! You have no claim to it!"
His hold on her was firm as stone, his face as one of a statue. "You are my Child Surprise, I have full claim to you, whatever blood there is in you. Have you forgotten it?"
His words took Ciri aback, made something stir in her heart. She didn't like it. It hurt.
She stared up at him intently and for a split second Geralt's face changed. It was just a flash. So quick Ciri could have missed it entirely. But she didn't. She saw him covered in blood, lips loosely parted, and eyes still and glassy.
And as soon as it had come, it was over. And there was just Geralt again before her. Normal Geralt. Only angrier.
"Let go," she demanded. She couldn't stand to be in the room anymore. Couldn't stand to have him touch her.
The anchor forgotten, she tugged on her wrists with renewed, panicked vigor. "Let me go!"
He didn't. "Calm yourself," he said.
She couldn't. It was too much. Everything suddenly felt overwhelming. And she was scared.
"Let go," she repeated, though now her voice cracked with an oncoming bout of tears. She tugged, fingernails desperately clawing into his flesh wherever she could reach. Why wouldn't he relent? Why did he not feel pain the way other men did?
"Let me go, Geralt."
His heart shriveled in sorrow, but his face remained calm, his eyes scanning her. "When you're calm. Don't fight me, Ciri, I'm not your enemy. I love you more anything in the whole world. I won't hurt you. Calm down."
"Stop," she whispered. "Don't say such things."
Why did it hurt her to hear it? Why did she feel the need to pull away from something she had craved all her life?
"I'll hurt you." And it was the truth. She could feel it coming the longer he held on to her. Bubbling to the surface. "Don't make me."
"You don't want to," he said, his eyes searching hers. "Because we're family. I love you, Ciri. I won't let anything bad happen to you. Hear me, Ciri. I love you. I won't hurt you. Please, stop fighting me."
It was his own fault. He didn't heed her warning.
So when she invaded his mind with pain, making blood streak from his eyes and nose, she did not feel guilty. She simply fought him that much harder in order to free herself.
The pain was so intense it washed everything in black, and red flashes kept pulsating around with every bout of agony. He tasted blood, his head spun, but his hands holding her didn't loosen, for his focus had been too strong. He gasped and tried to blink away bloody tears.
"Ciri," he grunted. "Stop it... Ciri..."
"You stop it!" she hissed, unwilling to relent. "Let. Me. Go."
He growled in pain through his gritted teeth but didn't relent, either. "When you calm yourself," he uttered with effort. "Stop... fighting me..."
"Get away from me!" Ciri screamed, the spell breaking as she did so, the effort of upholding the magic already taking a lot out of her. She fought to catch her breath, her wrists aching from Geralt's hold on her.
And yet, she suspected she didn't look half as bad as he did at the moment. His face was covered in blood. Just like in her vision.
"You're going to die," she breathed eventually, her knees shaking, her muscles weakening no matter how hard she tried to uphold her earlier stance. "You're all going to die."
"It's not true," he said, trying to catch his breath now that pain eased a little. "Your visions are just that - mere visions. We make our own destiny." He could no longer help himself and pulled her closer to embrace her to his chest with one arm, still holding her other wrist. "Please, Ciri, listen to me. It's going to be all right. I promise."
Ciri's body couldn't fight him anymore. It relented, without her permission, and she slumped against Geralt's chest.
She hated herself for that weakness. Hated him for forcing it on her.
"You're going to die. And I'll lose my way. Again." It was the truth. She could feel it.
"I'm never leaving you again, you hear me?" He kissed her head, his eyes stung as he closed them. "I'm not going to die. You will never be alone again. You and I forever, Ciri, remember? Forever."
She didn't speak. Her mouth felt dry and her whole body ached. It was as though she had not caught any sleep at all the night earlier.
Ciri hung limp in Geralt's arms, too exhausted to demand he get away from her again, or to contest his words.
She was just so... tired.
He hoisted her up a bit and deposited her gently on her bed. He stroked her hair and wondered if Yennefer was up yet.
"Sleep some more," he whispered to Ciri. "It's early. You need more rest."
She didn't argue with him now either. Even if she had wanted to, her body was already agreeing with his assessment.
Her eyes slipped closed and she slept, her fingers still curled into fists.
He staggered back from her bed and lowered into a chair heavily. He brushed his hands over his face and they came away bloody. He cursed under his breath and felt too damn tired for anything.
He shifted his chair to the table, poured water from the pitcher into the small basin, and began to wash his face.
Triss slipped in so quietly he only noticed her from the corner of his eyes while fastening the pouch back to his belt.
"Oh gods, Geralt, are you all right?" Her blue eyes went wide, she took his face in her hands, studying, as she noticed pink water in the basin and blood on his shirt. "What happened?"
"Ciri went a bit emotional, it's fine. I'm fine." He made himself smile subtly. "Don't worry."
"It's horrible, Geralt," she lamented, wringing her hands as she looked at the sleeping girl. "Is she losing control of her powers?"
"She's just a bit tired of the whole war and elves threat," he said. "She didn't have any chance to rest."
"You've been with Nenneke, though," she reasoned. "I thought it would do you good."
"She was restless and feeling guilty as if she was hiding there. It didn't help much. It only could help if the threat was no more."
"Oh, but who knows when that happens and..." she looked at him sheepishly, "if it happens at all..."
He shook his head, fastening his sword belt. "It should. We'll do what we can."
"Of course. Can I help?"
"Yes, if you would sit with her? Call Avallac'h if something happens."
She looked worried but nodded. "I shall."
"Thank you."
"Where will you be going?"
"I need to think what to do next."
She nodded, smiled. "I'll be here." Before he moved away, she approached and put her hands on his shoulders. "Be careful, please."
He smiled warmly. "I promise. You, too. Ciri is a little unbalanced. Be on guard."
"I will."
Zoltan was up early despite the night scandal that had kept him up late. His mind was preoccupied with gloomy thoughts as he went downstairs and greeted the maids in the kitchen, then went to sort through accounting books.
Dandelion joined him a few minutes later, with red bloodshot eyes and a pounding headache. He immediately went for the water barrel to fetch himself a glass.
"Oh, gods, Zoltan. What an awful, awful night."
"Aye, rather nasty," Zoltan agreed, making notes in the books. "Probably not the last one of such, either." He raised his eyes to the poet and gave him a gauging look. "Ye look like shit. Ye even slept?"
"Barely! I was nursing my poor manhood into the early hours of the morning. He was already at half-mast when Triss so cruelly pulled me away from those lovely sisters."
Dandelion sighed and drank, immediately regretting it and attempting to keep the water down.
Zoltan burst out laughing despite his heinous mood. "Such a damn waste of a night," he mustered, wiping away tears of laughter. "Yer too reckless with the little time we get for shuteye these days."
Dandelion scowled; Zoltan's mirth at his excruciating pain and suffering was just unacceptable.
"As if you have not spent every night gambling your savings away," he muttered, his face sour.
"I won plenty!" Zoltan argued. "Not that ye know much about it wooing women or playin yer ballads." He waved a hand and returned to the accounting. "No one wins at all times. The trick is to win more than ye lose, is all."
"I swear, one day I will come home to find you've lost the inn," Dandelion snorted, trying to force himself to drink more water.
"Ye should be here and watch over yer inn more," the dwarf retorted.
Dandelion looked towards the stairs.
"Any word from Geralt yet?"
"No words or anythin. It's bloody early."
Kain entered a few minutes later. "Morning," he greeted, regarding them both in turn. "You're up early."
"By chance, kitten-lad," Zoltan said. "Worries don't bring long sleep. If only to women, they do."
Kain sat next to Dandelion, regarding him sympathetically. "You might want to go back to bed."
Zoltan chortled.
"I cannot," Dandelion lamented. "For I will find no sleep nor solace." He squinted at Kain. "Had you any more luck with slumber than the rest of us sorry buggers?"
"Seems like it. I sleep better in the woods." He peered at the poet with doubt. "Did something happen I don't know about?"
"Not to my knowledge," Dandelion murmured, barely stifling a yawn. "I fell asleep sometime before dawn and woke up to loud voices. Probably from outside."
"I heard somethin a bit back," Zoltan said. "Ciri and Geralt arguing, it might've been. Couldn't make out much, but then it went quiet. I couldn't sleep and went down here. Hell knows what's happening there with the lass."
"He spent his night with her?" Kain asked.
"I wouldn't leave her alone if I were him," the dwarf shrugged.
"Won't she become suspicious if one of us is always glued to her behind?" Dandelion commented.
"At this point, does it matter much if she does?" Zoltan asked, spreading his arms momentarily as he stepped from behind the counter. "What else are we supposed to do? Let her run where she pleases and get in trouble?"
Dandelion shrugged. "Holding her back may not give a better outcome."
"And what would, ye genius?" demanded Zoltan, his arms akimbo.
"I don't know. Is a man no longer allowed to speculate?"
Zoltan scoffed. "How's that helpin?"
Everyone turned as Geralt descended the stairs, looking as rundown as he had the night before.
"Did something happen to bring you here so early?" he asked. "Especially you, Dandelion."
Dandelion studied the witcher for a moment before grabbing the rag Zoltan had left on the bar, doused it with what remained of his water, and pressed it to his forehead. "Couldn't sleep. And we heard voices."
"What voices?" the Witcher inquired and sat next to Kain. Zoltan brought a pitcher of cider and mugs. He poured, and Geralt drank hungrily.
"I thought it was drunkards fighting outside, but Zoltan informs me it may have been you and Ciri."
"She's a bit upset with Avallac'h's methods of dealing with conflicts," Geralt said.
Dandelion snorted. "You mean by knocking her out? Yes, I should think so."
"She forgets she can level the city when upset," the dwarf put in and refilled mugs.
"Is she alone?" Kain asked.
"Triss is with her," Geralt said. "Yennefer is probably still asleep."
"So what is the plan for the day?" Dandelion asked. He'd heard murmurings about it the night before but remembered little. "Are Zoltan and I to stay here with Ciri and the sorceresses?"
"We're stayin because we have yer sodding cabaret to open," Zoltan said. "However, in our current mess, I don't know if we can, unless Yennefer takes the lass someplace else."
"Maybe she will," Geralt mused. "Ciri won't be fond of being locked up."
"Geralt," Zoltan began, looking sheepish and rubbing his neck, "ye sure Yennefer can handle it? I don't mean anythin... I mean, maybe we have to consider the elf for this. Not that Yennefer is weaker - no, but... the elf won't hesitate to, ehm... disarm her like back at the keep."
"I don't want to ask him to do such things," the Witcher said, looking grim.
"You don't think she would forgive you?" Dandelion asked, his tone cautious. "Ciri, I mean."
"Forgive me for what?" Geralt gave him a tired, gloomy look.
"If you were to ask Avallac'h to guard her."
"It's not about her forgiving me. I don't want him around her that much if I can help it. It's my problem to solve, not his."
Yennefer had barely slept despite all Geralt's good intentions. She was worried. What if Ciri woke up and lashed out? What did the possession mean in essence and what was this lead they were going to follow up on? She'd had to leave the banking issue in Geralt's hands but she wasn't so sure she could sit back and do nothing this time. She didn't mind babysitting Ciri, tending to her needs, but this was a magic issue – shouldn't Yennefer at least be there to consult what might be wrong? She'd been warring with it, with the thought, that somewhere before sunrise she disappeared to Oxenfurt and directly to the library.
She'd spent enough time within the four walls over the last few days to know where most the source material was, and before long, she'd returned to the inn with books about the crones, their legends and began to pour over the information.
She knew there was a possibility that the study might lead nowhere, but she felt better doing something other than sitting on her hands trying to wait it out.
Yennefer had filled herself a bath and submerged until she was wrinkled. When she got out twenty minutes later she was freshly dressed and all signs of exhaustion had been swept away with some help of magic.
With a determined step, she made her way out of the bedroom, stopping in with Ciri first to check and see if she was awake. Geralt wasn't with her.
"He's downstairs," Triss answered before Yennefer could ask about where he'd gone.
She shut the door without another word and headed downstairs, picking up on the array of voices already there.
"Not sure Avallac'h agrees," Dandelion commented, his gaze darting to the stairs when Yennefer appeared.
"Morning."
Everyone looked to Yennefer descending the stairs, graceful and magnificent as if the last night didn't happen, her eyes shining, her skin radiant.
"Morning, Yen," Geralt smiled, meeting her gaze. "How you feeling?"
"Like a dream," Yennefer retorted, returning the Witcher's smile, her eyes briefly delving to Dandelion in response to his greeting. "Everyone well?"
"That we are so far," Zoltan said, offering her a mug of cider. "What matters is to decide how we manage our lassie. Is she fine? Or still angry?"
"She's asleep," Geralt reminded.
"What I want to know is whether ye sorceresses can do without the elf's help," Zoltan said.
"I'll be fine," Yennefer assured.
It wasn't that she couldn't knock Ciri out herself if she needed to. Yennefer hoped it wouldn't come down to that as she didn't want to hurt her. The idea sickened her. "How'd she fair through the night?"
The Witcher sighed and drank his fill of cider. "She slept till dawn, then woke up and we had a dispute. She demanded I gave her back the Aen Elle trinket."
"The what?" Zoltan asked.
Geralt produced the cameo from his pouch. "We assume the Hunt uses these to make it easier for their mages to navigate them to our world."
Zoltan cursed.
"There might be more of those," Kain added. "We'll have to locate them if we can."
"Ye better!" Zoltan agreed, and glanced over them. "Maybe then they stop comin here like it's their backyard."
"That's the hope," Geralt said.
"Then we should use the Lodge to do it," Yennefer suggested. "They're sitting on their hands. I'm sure they'll appreciate feeling useful, it's what they're here for."
"I don't think it's going to help us to let them in on this," Geralt said. "We don't know if and how they can turn that against us. We merely know they can."
"Clear as a sunny day," Zoltan agreed. "Can't expect any free aid from mages. They only serve their own greed."
Yennefer nodded. "There is a genuine concern for their betrayal. Always. Nevertheless, I can't see how at this point it would serve them. The Wild Hunt is everyone's adversary, one wrong move and the very people that Philippa wants to rule over would be lost."
"It's useless for me to try and foresee their ambition, for it tends to surprise me every time I face it," Geralt said. "I want to play it safer because Ciri's concerned."
"I agree," Kain said. "The Lodge shall help us with the battle as promised if they don't change their minds. But this particular matter we can resolve on our own."
"Does that mean there is one of those things in Novigrad? And Oxenfurt?" Dandelion gestured to the Aen Elle trinket.
"We're going to Oxenfurt to find out," said the Witcher. "You're welcome to come with us, Dandelion, for we need your help to gain access to the Academy territory and their basements and dungeons."
"Oh, well," Dandelion puffed out his chest with importance. "If it will help save the world."
The witchers smiled a little at the poet's sacrifice; Geralt put the cameo away.
"Thank you, my friend," he said.
Yennefer was a bit disappointed that Geralt had stolen Dandelion away for another task in Oxenfurt after they'd discussed what she'd needed the troubadour for today. Of course, given his fears aired the day before, it made sense that Dandelion would conveniently forget.
"Our cabaret should open tonight," Zoltan said. "I don't think I can cancel it and shut our doors." He turned to Yennefer, "Ye think it's safe with lassie here?"
"There is no way to know. It could go either way. I think all you can do it go with your instinct, Zoltan. Feel her out today – decide for yourself."
Dandelion looked between them all, his eyes wide. "Feel her out? As in... she may or may not murder?"
"Stop it," Geralt reprimanded, flashing a look the poet's way. "She's not insane enough to murder her friends."
Kain shot an uncertain glance Yennefer's way, wondering whether she also was inclined to cushion it a little for her own mind like Geralt still attempted.
"And those who aren't her friends?" Dandelion lowered the damp rag from the side of his head. "I'm sorry, Geralt, but after everything you and Kain told us last night, how Ciri is not even truly aware of what she is doing, you can't blame me for not wanting to put my audience in danger."
"Does Ciri know of your plans for a performance this evening?" Yennefer asked with a look at Zoltan.
"How would she know?" the dwarf said. "We haven't spoken in a while. She's been off and I was busy."
"Then cancel it. Save yourself the concern and worry. There's still time enough."
"It's unbelievably bad for business to cancel good things the elite of the city is looking forward to as their evening entertainment," Dandelion put in.
Zoltan made a 'what he said' gesture and drank. "It's also suspicious," he added.
Yennefer scoffed. "Suspicious to who? Djikstra?"
"Everything gets back to that bastard and yer old friend Eilhart," Zoltan snorted. "I would bet my life they keep a close eye on us one way or another. There must be lots of those sodding ways, too."
Yennefer wrinkled her nose hearing the names. "Think he'll attend tonight?"
"He doesn't bring his arse around here," Zoltan chortled. "Not even yer Eilhart, now that they're not fugitives anymore, I would guess."
"Then perhaps some spies. Although, given what Geralt found out to be true about the bank, I don't see what other reason they would have to waste such resources."
Unless they knew about Ciri? She said something similar about the interrogator that had questioned her, and that none of it had to do with the bank. Was it that he was still hunting her? Yennefer dreaded the thought. She didn't want anyone coming in to tempt an already unstable fate.
Maybe it was best if she took Ciri out looking for those portal ties to the Wild Hunt.
She scrubbed a hand against her forehead gently to quell an incoming headache.
"Don't suppose breakfast has been arranged?"
After a rather quick breakfast, it was decided that Dandelion was barely in shape for traveling, and he was of more use at his cabaret while the young medic Shani was the one to assist with the Academy passes back at Oxenfurt.
With that, Yennefer stepped out to see the witchers off, and at the hitching post next to their ready horses Geralt told her and Kain about his rough morning.
"She called it her heirloom," he patted his belt where the cameo was hidden. "The only thing she has of her blood. As if that elvish part of her was more real than her ties to this world."
"While she senses our alarm around her, she struggles to belong," Kain said, stroking his horse's neck. "And she clings to anything that could provide that feeling. The face on that cameo - save the ears - is hers. It's rather obvious."
Geralt shook his head slowly, his fingers combing absentmindedly through Roach's mane. "I was telling her I loved her and she screamed and thrashed and almost split my skull open for it. As if my saying it hurt her."
Yennefer absorbed all Geralt had told them. She was concerned before, but now she was absolutely terrified. If she said the wrong thing Ciri'd flee. What could they possibly do to change her thinking if Ciri was fighting against the simplicity of 'I love you'?
"I'm at a loss of what to say, Geralt. I—I hardly know how to handle my own emotions, I'm not so sure I'm prepared for hers or know how to start her healing. How long will you two be away? Is it a day excursion? Can I assume you'll be back this evening?"
"We'll be back as soon as we can," Geralt assured. "It takes us an hour to ride there, then back, we'll do out best to hurry with our search there."
"Then we'll have to go away at night," Kain reminded.
"I know," Yennefer said unnecessarily.
She nodded and then took a step back, gesturing for them to get on with it. The sooner they left, the sooner they'd be back. There wasn't a lot in her life that scared her, but she was innately fearful of doing irrevocable damage to her daughter – more than she already had.
Geralt stepped into her, claiming her mouth in a long, tender kiss.
"Be careful, Yen," he said when he pulled back. "I'll be here as soon as I can. Don't hesitate to engage Avallac'h if you need to."
"I won't," she assured, refraining from touching a hand to her thoroughly kissed lips. Geralt was being contradictory. One minute she had a fair idea of what he wanted, and the next he was making her insides turn to jelly.
She waited until the two were out of sight, and then made her way into the inn and for the bedroom upstairs to see if Ciri had woken.
Ciri had slowly come to and was watching Triss on the other side of the room with a confused scowl.
"Geralt said he was guarding my dreams. What are you guarding me from?"
Triss lifted her head, her lips softly pouting in surprise at Ciri haven woken. "Not guarding, Ciri. Simply making certain you are all right," she said, lifting to her feet and slowly approaching the bed. "How do you feel?"
Ciri was annoyed. Annoyed and confused and reluctant to take her companions' words as truth anymore. She sat up and placed her feet on the floor. "Fine."
"Are you hungry? Would you like me to fetch some breakfast?" Triss offered.
Ciri shook her head. "No. Thank you."
"You're up!" Yennefer greeted as enthusiastically as she could muster as she entered the bedroom. She didn't have to wonder for how long Ciri had been awake since Triss hadn't moved much. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd get up at all. Did you sleep well?"
"Like the dead," Ciri said, unable to conjure up the same enthusiasm Yennefer had hit her with.
"Where's Geralt?"
"He and Kain are on their way to Oxenfurt. They want to acquire a map of the area to help with the search for those portal devices you found."
Geralt and Kain. Always together. Just the two of them.
It was as Ciri expected – they'd always choose each other over her, given the opportunity.
"And what are we to do today?" she asked as casually as she could. "Twiddle our thumbs?"
Yennefer didn't miss the note of annoyance in Ciri's tone.
"What is it you'd like to do?"
"Something useful." Cir got up and tousled her hair. "I want to search for those devices."
"That's the idea. That's what the maps are for. In the meantime, why don't you have a bath, relax a little – it's been a stressful few days."
Triss hemmed her agreement. "It'll do your muscles good," she added.
Yennefer knew she meant mind.
Ciri stared at the two sorceresses, her gaze shrewd. Calculating.
"Fine," she conceded eventually, moving to brush past Yennefer in the doorway. "I'll go arrange it."
Yennefer reached for Ciri's arm immediately as she made to brush past her, halting her process with a firm but gentle grip, her thumb stroking slightly to appease any tension that may have cropped up at being stopped.
"Triss can do that," Yennefer stated. The redhead frowned, her features briefly taking on a look of annoyance before settling on realization.
"I'll grab you a little fruit as well," she added helpfully, spearing Yennefer with a look as she got up and started for the door.
Ciri pulled free of Yennefer's grasp. "I take it Geralt has confined me to my room?"
"I wasn't aware he had such power," Yennefer countered. Triss hesitated at the door, but one look from Yennefer told her to go. "A lot happened yesterday, and you and I haven't caught up. I thought that we could do so in private."
Ciri frowned, moving over to the window to take a look outside. "What happened yesterday?"
"You don't remember?" Yennefer asked tentatively. If Ciri didn't know what she was doing, then she was most certainly possessed, and Kain was wrong. "What do you remember of yesterday? Why did you come back to the inn without the Witchers?"
"I didn't." Ciri turned her head to look at Yennefer over her shoulder. "Kain and I came here together. Who told you I came alone?"
"Zoltan. He said you had an altercation with Avallac'h. That they had to subdue you. The Witchers arrived much later. You don't remember that?"
"It's not the version of events I remember."
The witchers arrived much later? Last Ciri had seen, Kain was in the stable across the street. Where had he gone after?
"No one had to subdue me. Avallac'h chose to do so because he is a coward."
"How's he a coward? For what reason?" Yennefer asked. Avallac'h had already explained, but considering how the mention of Kain had gone at the hot springs, she wasn't all that enthusiastic about revisiting something that Ciri didn't want to share.
"He can't handle confrontation. Would rather knock someone unconscious than have them argue with him."
"Zoltan said it was more than just words. That fists were thrown. What was the argument about?"
"Zoltan's short. Things look more frightening from his point of view," Ciri commented blandly. "It doesn't matter. Avallac'h can go to hell."
Yennefer might have laughed if what they were discussing wasn't dire. "Hopefully soon, if you choose, he'll no longer have to be a part of your life." That was the end goal for all of them. To be free of those murderous elves. "What about this morning? Don't suppose you remember your conversation with Geralt?"
"Why wouldn't I remember it? I'm not the one with amnesia." Ciri sighed, already weary of this conversation. "What of it?"
"You hurt him," Yennefer pointed out. Ciri's voice had already issued that she'd hit a point of done with the conversation, but it would seem weird if Yennefer ignored what had happened between the two. "Physically. That's— it's not something heard of between the two of you unless you're practicing. You don't want to talk about that?"
"He started it," Ciri said, turning back to the window again. "I warned him. He didn't listen. It was his own fault. He was being completely unreasonable."
"Unreasonable how? Was he hurting you?" Yennefer fished. "Did he say something?"
"He was keeping me from what belongs to me. He wouldn't give me the anchor." Ciri said, solemn. "I've kept it safe since we found it, and suddenly I am not trustworthy anymore."
"The anchor? What anchor? The stone?" Yennefer asked.
"Yes! The anchor! The very thing that allows The Hunt to find their way to specific locations in our world."
Ciri ran her hand through her hair. "It has my face on it."
"Why would it have your face on it?" Yennefer smiled serenely. "Is it of sentimental value?"
"It's my grandmother. Lara." Ciri folded her arms across her chest, staring wistfully out the window. "I am her only living relative. The only one of importance. It belongs to me."
"It does. I don't know the reason he took it from you, but do you think Geralt intends to sell it? Pawn it off to the next available hand?"
Ciri's eyes flashed with indignation. "What!?"
The look on Ciri's face was enough to make Yennefer cringe internally. She walked over to Ciri at the window.
"Geralt won't do that to you, you know that. You can trust him. You do trust him, don't you?"
"He withholds the anchor knowing it hurts me. It's an assertion of power. It's cruel."
And Ciri didn't know what she had done to deserve it. When had she lost his trust?
"Kain found it and gave it to me. I kept it safe."
"I don't believe Geralt is intentionally trying to be cruel. Not to you. He never would, you know that. Is the problem that you believe he can't keep it safe?"
"No!" Ciri exploded. "The problem is that it is mine and he is keeping it from me! How hard is that to understand?"
"You said you found it, that Kain gave it to you to keep safe. Now it's yours? Why do you need it?"
"Because I have nothing!" Ciri screamed. "I have no reminders of my family. They all got destroyed when Calanthe died. I have no physical proof of where I belong! That anchor... It's something. It's proof that at some point in time there was a woman who looked like me. A woman who was powerful and beloved. And I am her heir. I am not some imposter who stole her blood. It was mine all along."
The witchers rode onto a narrow road amidst the fields and slowed down to a trot to give the horses a bit of rest.
"What is that Three the Pellar mentioned?" Geralt mused. "He said the dark in Ciri gives birth to Three."
"There were three Crones," Kain said. "If we forget about their trapped mother."
"They were all ugly as sin and posed as beautiful young maidens on their tapestry. People were drawn by it even though they had nothing to do with the concepts of the Goddess."
"No, they made their own. But now that there is a void..." Kain looked at Geralt pensively. "Maybe there is a new Three in the making?"
Geralt scowled, "You think they will revive themselves no matter what we do?"
"I didn't mean the same Three. What if it's a new Three? That crone Thecla wasn't alone. She had that younger woman with her. She was serving the old one and hardly she has changed her mind since. She seemed devoted."
"Not to mention resembling the hag," Geralt added. "She must be her daughter."
"An old crone and a woman," Kain said. "They're missing a maiden to fully represent three faces of Goddess Mother."
"Ciri is a young maiden," Geralt stated grimly. "I mean, would have been if..."
"What?"
The Witcher swallowed, uncomfortable to be even contemplating the matter of Ciri's private life. "If she were a virgin."
Kain clucked his tongue, "She is. Must be."
Geralt was surprised. He stared mutely, expecting him to elaborate.
"She told me back at Kaer Morhen that she's never been with a man before in the traditional sense, ehm... if you don't count groping-"
"Yes, I got it," Geralt stopped him, wincing. It began to dawn on him rather brightly. He saw Kain was thinking the same. "She must be the third. The maiden. That's what it means. Unless..." he narrowed his eyes at Kain with a silent doubt.
"We haven't," Kain hurried to confirm. "We never have."
"Then it's that Three."
"But she's not with them. Means we might have a chance to prevent it somehow."
"If only I knew how," Geralt sighed deeply. "They say love lifts any curse. But Ciri goes mad at my reminding that I love her. Maybe it's your love that's needed. Because she loves you."
"Geralt," Kain heaved a sigh. "If there is anything I can do, I will do it, though it doesn't seem like she would listen to either of us. That dark poison in her works against us, damaging our connection to her. She thinks we're her enemies or well on our way to that category."
"We have to try harder."
"I know. But we also need to decide what we do if we fail."
Geralt smirked bitterly, "Won't we be dead then?"
"Perhaps not both of us. Or perhaps neither - if we pay that price."
Geralt's face went dark, his heart was breaking at the thought. "I would rather die by her hand. And maybe I will. But I'm a witcher. I shall do what's right. Even if it kills me. If it goes there, if she goes to the darkest place... I'll have to do what is right."